Santa Grissom
by Geek1
Summary: Grissom and son. AU.. VERY AU..


Title: Santa Baby

Author: Geek

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me… etc.

Notes: They say write what you know about….I know about small children…and this is AU.. very much so!

Thanks to Karen beta-ing again, you're a star!

Grissom first felt the inklings of doom the moment he heard Nick whistling 'Santa Claus is coming to Town'. He knew it was going to be a very long shift when he heard Catherine singing 'Santa Baby'. By the time Warrick wandered past humming 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus' he was seriously considering closing his office door. When Grissom noticed the picture pinned on the notice board that he realised there was no hope of pretending he had no idea what was going on, and judging from the smirk on Nick's face, it was obvious who'd put it there. Grissom groaned as he worked out how Nick had gotten a copy of it.

She'd emailed it to Nick, obviously, and now he'd never live it down. Closing the office door, not emerging till the end of shift, and then going home to divorce his wife was starting to look like a good idea. It was all Sara's fault, he decided.

It had started that morning as he'd arrived home from his shift.

"Hey," Sara smiled, coming up behind him and giving him a quick hug. "You need to hurry if you're going to make it on time."

Grissom frowned. "Make it on time?"

Sara let go and slipped around to face him. "You've forgotten?"

"Judging by the fact that I have no idea what you're talking about, I think it's safe to say yes."

"I knew you would!" she exclaimed. "If you didn't want to do it, why did you agree in the first place?"

"Sara? Why don't you tell me exactly what it is I've forgotten while I grab some coffee?" He headed into the kitchen, kicking his shoes off and dropping his jacket on the couch as he did so.

Following him, and picking up his jacket and shoes, she shook her head. "This morning you're supposed to be going in to Jack's pre-school. You agreed to it when I asked you. You can't back out now - they'll never get a replacement this late."

Grissom put down the coffee cup he was holding, his face paling as he realised exactly what she was talking about. "That's today? I was kind of hoping it'd just go away if I forgot about it."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Because that always happens, doesn't it? You see it regularly enough to know it doesn't."

He raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, I admit I was wrong. How long do I have and where do I go?"

Sara beamed at him, giving him the gap toothed smile he loved so much. "I knew you wouldn't let them down. You need to be at the pre-school by eleven, and it's Mrs. Ramsey you need to ask for. She has the suit all ready for you." With a quick pat to his stomach, she grinned mischievously. "I don't think you'll need the cushion though."

Grissom's eyebrow rose. "Now I know why you've been cooking so often this past month. You've been planning it all along..."

"Are you implying something about my cooking? Because, frankly, I'd think very carefully about whatever it is you were going to say next," Sara told him with a smirk. "After all, I not only know the best way to kill you, I also know how to hide the body."

This time it was Grissom rolling his eyes.

Pulling up outside the pre-school, Grissom took several long, deep breaths before getting out of his Tahoe and going inside. He found himself being bustled along until he was left in a small room that looked remarkably like a storage closet. There, hanging in front of him, was the suit he was expected to don. With a deep sigh he reached for it, wondering why on earth he'd agreed to it in the first place.

Ten minutes later, having fought his way into the suit, adjusted the wig, beard and hat, and discovered that the boots were far too small to be comfortable, the door opened and Grissom was led out and handed a heavy sack. To his horror he found that he had an overly cheerful assistant, dressed in a bright green elf costume that he could only assume was left over from some tacky casino Christmas show, and he was expected to pose for pictures with the children.

Inwardly promising himself that Sara was going to pay dearly for this, he braced himself before hobbling into the room and meeting the wide eyed faces of thirty small children, who promptly either cheered or burst into tears and fled to the other end of the room.

By the time his own small son was sitting on his lap posing for a picture and gazing at him with deep suspicion in his blue eyes, Grissom had frankly had enough. He'd had his fake beard almost tugged off, been kissed wetly by one over-enthusiastic little girl, and discovered a rather large slimy patch on his sleeve where someone had wiped their nose. To top it all, he'd even been sicked up on in someone's excitement. He was grateful that he hadn't actually been pee'd on.

He was brought up sharply as his son spoke to him.

"Santa?" the little boy asked.

"Yes?" Grissom tried to disguise his voice, but he knew he was doing a poor job of it.

"Where are your reindeers?"

"My reindeer? They're... er... they're out back, resting."

"Isn't it too hot for reindeers? Have you left them water?"

"My elf did," Grissom said confidently.

Grissom junior turned to stare at the elf. "That's Miss Jackson in a costume."

"It is? Darn it. I must have left my real elf at the South Pole."

The boy gave him a long, thoughtful stare. "My daddy says you live at the North Pole. Are you sure you're Santa?"

"Well, of course I am," Grissom bravely tried. "Who else would I be?"

"My daddy says that you only help Santa because he can't be everywhere at one time." There was definite accusation in the boy's eyes. "So that means you're not Santa at all, but someone pretending."

"Well, maybe your daddy has it wrong. I should know. I'm Santa, after all." He added a few Ho Ho Ho's for good measure.

The look of scorn on the boy's face definitely came from the Sidle genes, Grissom decided. "My daddy's never wrong." He gave a little smirk. "If I got some... epi... epi... epifeeleralls, my daddy is so clever he would know just who you are!"

"Well, he'd only find that I'm Santa. Here - have a present!" With that Grissom slid the boy off his lap and looked around to see who else there was to take his place. With relief he noticed he was almost done. Just one more child.

Sara looked up as the door slammed. Seeing the look on her silver-haired husband's face, she decided that the first thing he needed was an ego boost.

"Hey there, handsome!" she called.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Wake me when it's time for my shift" he muttered grumpily.

Wrapping her arms around him, Sara kissed him thoroughly before stepping back and smiling at him. "You did a good thing, Gil. I know you hated it, and it wasn't easy, but thank you for doing it." She let go of him as a voice called, "Mommy! I'm back! Did you miss me?"

"Hey there, little fella. Of course I missed you," she grinned, catching the small blond as he ran into the room. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, mommy. I gotted a present, too!"

Grissom sighed. "You got a present, scout, not gotted." He frowned at Sara. "Why you wanted him to go to that pre-school, I'll never understand. His speech has gone downhill since he started there." He rubbed a hand wearily across his face. "I'm going to take a shower, then get some sleep." Reaching a hand out to tousle his sons' hair, he smiled. "See you later, scout."

"Night, daddy. Don't let the bed bugs bite!" the little boy grinned.

"If they do, use dynamite!" both father and son chorused.

"I'm hungry, mommy. Can I have a cookie?" the little blond asked, turning back to his mother.

Sara led him into the kitchen as Grissom headed off to bed.

"Mommy, Santa camed today. He gave me a present."

"He did? I guess you must have been a very good boy then," Sara told him as she set the table for their lunch.

Climbing up onto his chair, the boy shook his head. "No, mommy, Santa cheated."

"He did?" Sara stared at him.

"It was really daddy." The boy looked her in the eye and whispered, "Don't tell him I know. He thinks he fooled me, and I don't want him to know I'm cleverer than he is."

Upstairs, as he closed the bedroom door, Grissom wondered why on earth Sara was laughing so loudly.

Fin


End file.
